In the Depths
by LeFreak3119
Summary: This was all just a business trip gone wrong. Arthur Kirkland, a well-publicized writer, traveled towards Brazil for a special award for his newest book: In the Depths-a survival fiction between three teenagers after a horrible plane crash. Never did he expect to live such events. ((PARTNER NEEDED!))


Spitting out revolting water and gasping for air, a woman from Hungary scurried to the nearest and largest tree root above the swamp surface, temporarily blinded, scared and shaken. Wiping her face as dry as she could, she grimaced over lifeless, floating bodies and kicked a corpse away from her leg as it brushed her. "I'm sorry." She apologized quickly, her nervous were high on end of what just happened. A few hours earlier that day, she thought nothing could have ruined her trip to Brazil with college friends. Except that is, their plane's engines failing.

Wringing out her sweater, she recalled the horrific incidents of children crying and clinging onto their mothers, people either screaming over each other or praying to themselves. No one heard the pilot warning everyone to remain in their seats. The cabin violently jerked and shook like an unstable roller coaster breaking off the track. Elizaveta covered her ears, blocking out the uproar of panic and terror as the nose slammed into the marsh, throwing those not buckled in against the cockpit. Yelling continued as the shell of the plane snapped, metal crying sharply from colliding into something hard and large.

Fire broke out underneath the Hungarian woman's feet, struggling with her seat belt, the flames licked passed her ankles and burned the hem of her skirt. Freeing herself, she ran to the opening and dove into the water, putting out the fire. Then silence.

-

This was all just a business trip gone wrong. Arthur Kirkland, a well-publicized writer, traveled towards Brazil for a special award for his newest book: In the Depths-a survival fiction between three teenagers after a horrible plane crash. Never did he expect to live such events.

By some miracle, Arthur made his way up the slanted cabin from first class to the door as others chaotically tried the same. His head ached, but only vaguely; adrenaline blocked the pain. The floor was slick was water filled the plane.

Oh great, water. Arthur had to thank the divine spirit for that one.

The writer stood at the door, and manuvered his way along to slick metal to stand on a decrepit wing. It was sinking fast in the murky water; he needed to get to land quick.

"Help me!" Arthur called to anyone who may be alive. "Help me! I cannot swim!" The wing sank fast, water crawling up to his shins.

Just as all hope seemed lost, a tanned man poked his head from the water. His green eyes were wide in hysteria, and blood stained the water beside him, but he was alive.

"D-do you need help?" His Spanish accent was thick.

Arthur nodded his head vigorously.

The man turned himself around. "Get on my back," he said. Arthur obliged.

-

Elizaveta heard the cry and shouted back. "Is someone there?" Was she not alone? She hope delusion hadn't settle in as she flung her sweater to a branch above then noticed a pain in her feet. She nudged her damaged heel to remove it but her skin pulled with the tug. The harder she tugged the more of her skin pulled, proving her fear. Her sole and skin melted together. "Oh no." She could keep the ruined shoes on an not try to rip open her flesh, but with the vile water inside, her feet might become infected.

She majored in history and recently learned about trench foot - a disgusting condition cause by damp feet. Recalling the discolored and decaying images her professor displayed to the class about the topic and decided her feet weren't going to be added to the collection. Clenching her teeth, she started to slowly pull harder on the heel, feeling her skin tear and burn. It was worse than a band-aid and just like one, she pulled faster, silently screaming and pulling again until her flesh torn away from the shoe.

Muscles bled and twitch uncontrollably from her hip to toes. She steadied her breath and heart rate. She looked at the blood soak skin and dipped it in the water to clean. Given the location, more harm than good could be done. On to the next shoe, Elizaveta thought. Swallowing, holding her breath, and bracing herself, the melted dermis hung onto the sole as it broke open her arch. She groaned in suffering, tears brimming under her tightly shut eyes. Distracted by the burning sensations and muscles spasms, she didn't hear the soft splashes of water.

"Elizaveta? Is that you?" An Italian voice asked.

"Lovino?" She cleared her vision and smiled anxiously at the chocolate haired man swimming towards her. Ecstatic that she wasn't alone and her friend survived, she swam furiously fast to him, hugging him and almost toppling him over. "Thank goodness you're alive!"

-

"I-I..." Arthur swallowed down the lump in his throat. He held onto the Spaniard tighter as he paddled through the bile. "Thank you."

"Es no problem." The man's voice was soft, subdued with discomfort. "I'm-" He cringed. "I'm just glad to help."

"I know first aid. I can treat any of your injuries once we reach land." Arthur hated feeling indebted.

"Thanks, amigo." They swam in silence for a bit. "Hey, is your name Arthur Kirkland?"

He froze. "How do you know who I am?"

"I saw an ad for your new book on TV the other day.

-

"Do you hear voices?" Elizaveta asked, wincing from the flowing water against her broken skin. She was glad they weren't swimming in the ocean, sharks could detect her blood. Then she worried what lurked in the murky depths. Poisonous snakes? Hungry crocodiles? Or something worse?

"I do." They both swam around the smoking cabin, coughing and avoiding the corpses. Lovino barely made out a large figure behind the black debris, holding down his urge to vomit from sickness. "Hey! Who's there?"

-

"So what's your name?"

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," he replied proudly.

"Tch, that's one hell of a name. Mind if I just call you Joe?"

"Tony's fine."

They swam a little longer until they heard a call. "Hello?"

"We're over here!"

"Come find us!"

"Other people, I'm so relieved!" The pair swam closer to the figure until they made eye contact. Oh, it was one man caring another, that explained a lot. "Are there more of you? It's just us two so far." She hissed to herself, wondering if her bleeding had stopped and if she made the right choice.

"No, it's j-just us," Arthur replied.

Antonio's eyes lit up. "Lovino! Lovino!" Antonio bounced in the water, much to Arthur's dismay and both their aching heads.

"You know him?"

"Yes! Yes! He is my son!"

Arthur tusked. "That's all very well and good, but can we please get to dry land? Please?" His voice took on a meek tone; he hated feeling helpless in the body of water.

"Papa!" Lovino hurried to his father, forgetting about his colleague and kissed one of his cheeks. "So, if no one else is with you, then mama might be-?"

"Ah!" Knowing Lovino's parents well, she easily recognized the woman's body among the others. She approached with caution, reaching out with a shaken hand. "Mrs. V-Vargas?"

Lovino cluthed his father close, already knowing his mother left this earth.

Antonio shook his head in disbelief, holding his son close to his chest. "Don't worry Lovino, we're going to be okay."

"But, but-!" He shuddered, sobbing hard into an already wet shirt.

Elizaveta patted his back for comfort, her own heart broke little by her friend's tears. "Maybe, Feliciano is still alive?" He looked around and thought it could be true, she hadn't seen his body yet.

"I'm... Sorry for your loss..." Arthur muttered, looking away so as not to intrude on the private moment.

"I really hope so. Right now, we need to focus on surviving ourselves. Have you found any promising camping sites?" Antonio muttered, keeping his voice low to soothe his crying child.

The Hungarian woman looked around as far as she should see and sighed. "It's seems endless but we should try to head in some direction." She opted to go towards the opposite of where the dead floated. Her feet felt numb but she ignored it and would check the damage after they found any sort of dry land. "If it's not too far, maybe we can try to salvage what we can from the plane?"

"Yeah, check for anything in luggage that might help us. It might feel disrespectful, but we need all the help we can get to live. Lovi, are you doing alright?" He asked, peeling the Italian from his shirt.

He sniffled and wiped his face dry to no avail. "Y-yes... you're still here with me, Papa." He followed his college friend pass the over growing trees up the weak flowing river. "Let's just stick together, yes?" Lovino thanked the heavens when they did find a patch of land with tuffs of grass taller then their heads. None of them knew how deep it went.

"We should probably stay out of there until we at least have some weapons." Arthur motioned to the tall grass, setting down what he had salvaged to sort through it.

A sneeze left Elizaveta's nose as she shivered a blushed at a thought. "You know that we.. need to stay warm and dry, right?"

"Yes, but... We can camp on the beach for the first night. Lovino-right? Do you think you can find some dry driftwood for a fire?" Arthur was thankful he'd researched some information about survival for his book.

The Italian also sneezed but nodded. "I'll try my best, sir. Maybe we can also use this grass?"

"We need to hang our clothes to dry." The involved them getting fully undress which added more to her embarrassment being the only female. She wouldn't want any of them catching a cold though.

"The grass will make it smoke, which will keep bugs away, but we can't start the fire with it. And please, call me Arthur." He smiled a bit and pulled off his shoes and dress socks.

"I'll see if I can find any kind of food while you guys work on the fire, I'll be back soon." Antonio called over his shoulder, tracing the outskirts of the grass.

"If it's no trouble, I'll dry myself over there." Elizaveta pointed with a shivering finger toward behind tree roots growing from the swamp. She cried from the ripping of her skin as she walked on the tips of her toes. Resting her body down and making sure no eyes were on her, her skirt and top came undone after pulling them loose from strings and zippers. She felt completely exposed as she was but twisted her clothes and laid them out. "No peeking from any of you!" Her voice traveled to the men.

Unknowing to her, a pair of blue, slit eyes had been watching her for a while, attracted to the scent of her blood.

Antonio peeled off his wet shirt as he walked along the sand, thinking about how peaceful this would be if he weren't stranded on an island with a dead wife and missing child. "I hope Lovino will do alright with this, he's never dealt with death before."

The young Italian was hurrying around the small beach and in front of the foliage, trying to find dry sticks and logs from higher tides.

Lovino stripped of all his clothes before searching back into the water. He prayed leeches wouldn't find his body as a tasty snack any time soon. He covered his nose from the stench he hadn't grown used to yet once surrounded by the moss. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"Survive." Arthur responded immediately to his rhetorical question, turned away while he pulled off the rest of his clothes and wrung them out as well as he could.

Antonio sighed, knowing he wouldn't find any food unless he went into the grass or the water. "I need a weapon of some kind, maybe someone salvaged something." He turned around and headed back the way he came, humming to himself to avoid thinking and breaking into tears.

"The sun seems to be setting. I think." It was hard to tell with how the thick tree branches blocked the sky, blanketing a shadow. She sighed, fanning herself and hoping the attempt help cool her nerves. Her scent, however, traveled towards a hissing mouth which flickered a forked tongue. "Hm?" Elizaveta thought she heard something but didn't find anything.

Lovonio found it eaiser to just break off bark pieces than drift wood. Something caught his eyes after swimming closer to the wreckage, a yellow sweater hanging from lower tree limbs. "I should return that to her."

Antonio walked back around a tree and turned away, realizing he was still wearing his clothes while everyone else was... well... not. "Oh, sorry, uh... Did anyone salvage something I could use as a weapon? I have to go into the wilderness."

Lovino gathered his finding in a neat pile on a grassy foundation. "Well, broken pieces of the plane can be used but I wouldn't risk being cut myself." He glanced to where his friend stayed and slowly walked to the roots. "Umm, I found your sweater. It dried." Facing away, Lovino waved the garment around so Elizaveta could get it. "I'ma n-not looking! I swear!"

She peeked then covered her own face, seeing all of the men. Reddness burned her cheeks and she quickly snatched her sweater. "T-thanks! N-now go, please!"

"You said no peeking!" Arthur called, he had kept his boxers on to preserve at least a little dignity.

Antonio laughed at their exchange and pulled off his own pants to join the group in their lack of clothes. "Ah whatever, it's natural to be naked!"

"I was making sure you weren't! Old man pervert!" It was the honest truth, she wasn't at all ready to have romantic feelings or any sexual intercourse. She pulled on her yellow sweater and tugged it down as much as it could stretch.

Lovino grunted as his eye twitched, yelling at his father. "You shouldn't say that so comfortably and carefree!"

"I'm not that old, I'm only 32!" He snapped, crossing his arms as he went back to trying to light a little fire on some kindling. "Curse these bloody wet matches!"

"Oh relax Lovi, we need to let out stress. Try smiling, okay?" He smiled as an example as he trotted over to some plane debris.

"C-cover yourselves! I don't like being alone here!" That hissing was getting awfully close to her and it really made her looking for any alligators hiding under the dirty, dark water.

A smile actually made it's way to his face. Lovino's father somehow was happy and managed to grin in the most dire of situations. He patted his underwear and they were still damp. "Damn." But he understood Elizaveta's fear of being by herself. It could be why dating didn't cross her mind often.

The Spaniard did the same and called back to her to tell her it was fine if she came out, then looked around to make sure everyone was doing alright. "Hey, what happened to your feet?"

Arthur gave up on the matches and left them to dry. "Bloody hell, what are we supposed to do now? Unless we cant find a flint and steel, we can't really make a fire."

Her legs were covered with her damp clothes by her arm, how did Antonio know? She turned and saw small spots following her. Elizaveta dropped to her knees from the pain. "They're a little... hurt is all."

"Rub two sticks together, of course."

"That's a lot harder than you think, you know." Arthur growled, taking two sticks from the pile to try it anyway.

"Woah woah woah, what happened?" Antonio hurried over to her, kneeling in the sand to examine her feet. "It looks like you ripped the skin off..."

She dipped her feet into the water and nodded. "I did. I couldn't let my feet get worse. It hurts badly but my skin will grow back." Forcing a smile, she hoped the men stopped worrying and focused harder on the fire.

A forked tongue underneath the murky waters licked against the open skin.


End file.
